Modelling
by Pretentious Procrastinator
Summary: Obi-Wan and Ventress meet on an ususual undercover misson...my first fanfic. On Hiatus, sorry.
1. Chapter 1

As undercover missions went this one sucked. At least Asajj Ventress thought so as she was surrounded by a pack of make-up and hair stylists' intent on leaving no surface of her un-scrutinised.

She was willing to do anything, kill anyone and use whatever means necessary to get her revenge on the Jedi. For now, the Separatists were her ladder to this achievement. She would serve them to the ends of her strength. But going undercover as a model? Whoa. Slow down there! To a self-confessed tomboy, this was hell.

In an effort not to kill all the _**kriffing**_ stylists as one of them poked her in the eye for the third time, Ventress thought happy thoughts.

_/One dead Jedi, two dead Jedi, three dead Jedi.../ _

"Okay, you're finished, Gracie-Lou."

Gracie-Lou Freebush. What a name. Why her alias had to be something so ridiculous she had no idea.

Grimacing, she stood up and looked at herself in the mirror. At the black pixie-crop she had let her grow out to and the dress she was wearing. Tight to the extreme, the ebony corset bodice was threaded with lace and flowed out into a sleek skirt split up one side, sexy yet elegant. Ventress had to admit, she did look good. Now for the hardest part. She slipped on a pair of peep-toe stilettos at least eight inches high, black satin ribbon snaking up her legs in a criss-cross pattern. Securing them, she prepared herself to walk over to the waiting area, unashamedly using the Force to correct her balance. How non-Force sensitives wore these stupid shoes was beyond her.

Surveying the assembled crowd for someone who didn't look completely brainless, one man stood out. He was older than most of the models, maybe in his early thirties, the same age as Ventress herself. He was clean shaven, with auburn hair and blue/green/grey eyes. Of medium height, he appeared slender but the well-formed stomach and chest that showed through his open shirt belied this. He was utterly gorgeous, but something in his eyes spoke of a sharp intelligence behind the looks.

Approaching him in her death trap shoes, she smiled.

"Hello."

He gave her a cheeky smile,

"Have we met before?"

It was the voice that did it. Doing a double-take on his appearance, she realised it was the lack of a beard that had fooled her. Reaching out in the Force, she found his signature. Brilliantly concealed, it would've fooled her had she not spent hours plotting this particular Jedi's demise.

Kenobi!


	2. Unexpected Arrival

_Kenobi! _

Recognition flashed in Obi-Wan's eyes at the same moment as Ventress.

"Asajj," he said quietly, inclining his head.

"Stay out of my way and I'll stay out of yours," Ventress hissed.

"Of course...Ms Freebush," humour was only evident in Obi-Wan's eyes.

With a snarl, Ventress whipped round and stomped away as fast as she could. Unfortunately for her, the heels made that considerably slower than normal.

/I need to report this to the Council/ thought Obi-Wan. But while he was a Jedi first and foremost, he was also a man. So, he couldn't help but spend a couple of minutes first staring at Ventress' retreating butt.

/Mmm, it's a very nice butt.../ Obi-Wan had to admit that this wasn't the first time he had looked at Ventress, not as his enemy, but as a very attractive woman. With a head of hair, she was stunning. After all, Dooku wouldn't have put her undercover as a super model if she wasn't. It's not like Grievous wouldn't do it (in fact Obi-wan was sure he'd enjoy it) but he wouldn't win any prizes.

Following that happy train of thought, he pictured Grievous in a pink dress and chuckled softly to himself. However, when his false name was called to open the men's show, nerves overrode humour and he felt stage fright grip him.

When he had been told what this mission entailed, he had been disbelieving and a little less than polite...

F*L*A*S*H

"You're off your kriffing heads! Especially you, you little troll! Why do I have to do this anyway? Can't you choose a female Jedi?"

"No, we need a male model undercover." Master Windu's decision was absolute.

"So send Anakin! He loves getting attention, and he's much better looking than I am!"

"Not true that is. Chased you for many years women have."

"No need to remind me!"

B*A*C*K

"Ben Jinn. Last call for Ben Jinn."

"Sorry!" Obi-Wan said with a beaming but apologetic smile.

"Um, that's okay," said the female assistant, dazzled.

As she walked off Obi-Wan shook his head. Why he had that effect on people he had no idea. On the other side of the curtain, the band started playing and chatter died down. Obi-Wan swallowed. Facing a battalion of droids-no problem. Prancing around on stage being stared at...err, wrong number thank you very much. It didn't help he wasn't wearing very much. His trousers were made of some thin, billowy khaki fabric and tightened around mid-calf. An ornate belt kept them slung low around his hips and his upper body was bare except from a fitted waistcoat that hung open. He hadn't been this naked, in front of so many people since... well ever!

And then it was time. As he started down the catwalk (or path of humiliation as he liked to think), he could all too well imagine Anakin's expression if he could see him now.

_**Hope you like this because, I was amazed when I saw how many people had read and liked this story! Please review as well because I know I made some mistakes and I'd love to know what you think!**_


	3. Anakin

Ventress was furious. How dare Kenobi turn up. This mission was bad enough as it was, without Kenobi being here. Not only could he foil her plans, but he was also very distracting. She had to admit he was very attractive, and not all of the time she had thought of him included his death and her triumph.

Peeking through the curtain at the runway, Asajj was surprised to see Obi-Wan opening the show. Then she realised why. Looking at the male models waiting for their turn on-stage, Kenobi was definitely better looking than any of them. Clean-shaven, he looked years younger and the carefully styled "messy" hair looked great on him. He walked like a panther and the sinuous movement highlighted his sculpted muscles. To anyone else he looked sexy, confident and as if he had been doing this his whole life. However, Ventress could sense his embarrassment. A very humble man, he hated being the centre of attention. Unfortunately for him, it was not only looks that got him attention, but his charisma.

/Thank the Force that's over!/ thought Obi-Wan as he sipped from a water bottle. Having so many women staring at him like rabid wolves had been an awkward and embarrassing experience, especially when he noticed several men in his group of admirers.

He quickly contacted the Council to tell them of Ventress' arrival, and then dialled Anakin's comlink frequency. He knew the pictures would be all over the Holonet by now, but he might as allow his former Padawan to gloat in person. Otherwise he was in for whole lot of teasing when he got back, and he could only take it in small doses. Hopefully no one else would recognise him, as this was meant to be an undercover mission. Anyway, it was unlikely anyone would link Obi-Wan Kenobi, Jedi Master of the Council, to Benn Jinn, Drada's new leading male model. At least that was what he was hoping.

"Hello, Master," said Anakin, sniggering.

"I thought I might as well appreciate my humiliation first hand," replied Obi-Wan, performing a slow, mocking turn to show off his appearance.

"Very nice. There'll be crowds of people, lining up to go to next Temple Ball with you."

"Haha."

"Did you know that 90% of male models are gay? So who will it be- Mace or Yoda?"

"What...ahh...uh," spluttered Ob-Wan.

"Anyway, who are you going to say I am if someone sees you calling me?"

Obi-Wan could feel mirth bubbling up inside him, but kept his face straight. Ohh, Anakin had basically asked for this one.

"My boyfriend probably."

Now Anakin was spluttering.

"Goodbye, darling," said Obi-Wan, turning off the comm and smiling to himself. For once he'd had the last word.


	4. The Senator

**So sorry this has taken so long to update, I've just been a bit busy. I've realised I haven't added a disclaimer to this story so here it is **

**Disclaimer: It all belongs to George Lucas, apart from "Drada". **

**Thanks to everyone who's read and reviewed this story, it means a lot. This is quite a short chapter, it just adds a bit of back-story to why Obi-Wan and Ventress are undercover, but I just thought of this so it might be a bit convoluted. Anyways, on with the story... **

SWSWSWSWSWSWSWSW

Ventress giggled quietly to herself and then felt disgusted. This blasted mission was rubbing off on her-the Ventress she knew would've rather died than giggled. So, she _laughed _to herself. She had caught the end of Skywalker's comm, and had found it hilarious how Kenobi had so quickly turned the tables on Skywalker's joke. _Skywalker. _Euhh. Ventress detested him-arrogant, immature brat.

SWSWSWSWSWSWSWSWSW

At this moment, Ventress was sat at the bar, dressed in "casual" clothing. Tight fitting, low slung jeans, a cropped t-shirt and 6 inch heels. Sipping her (strongly alcoholic-thank the Force) cocktail, Ventress stood at the end of the bar, away from the clumps of models grouped there.

"I presume you're here to assassinate the Senator?"

Obi-Wan's voice sent shivers down her spine as his breath tickled her ear. She hadn't heard him approach, and it annoyed her.

"I presume you're here to stop me?" Ventress' retort showed no sign of her annoyance, just indifference.

"Clever girl."

Asajj balked at his deliberate use of girl. Although she was unsure of his exact age, there was only a few years separating them. Sipping her drink, Ventress just stared at him.

"A Senator in hiding. This is his first public appearance in two months. As the chief designer for this fashion show, the models meet him before the final show. So instead of having to find out where all his safe houses and what his protection details are, and all that hassle, just get a model to do it. Well done. Brilliant plan."

With no hint of sarcasm, Obi-Wan tapped his hand against his glass, mimicking applause.

"Thankyou," said Ventress sweetly.

Obi-Wan finished his drink gave her a flirtatious wink.

"Be seeing you."

"Of course. Although, next time I'd like to introduce my 'sabre to your vital organs." Ventress mirrored Kenobi and emptied her glass.

"Wouldn't miss it," Obi-Wan walked off, leaving Ventress alone with her thoughts.


	5. Lycra, Thongs and a Hot Tub

**Hi guys, sorry this has taken so long but the Microsoft office on my laptop isn't working, so I've had limited access to a computer that actually works properly. This is the end of where I've got to with this story and I wasn't really sure where I was going with this when I started writing, so any ideas of how to continue would be welcome. Thanks : ). This chapter is K+ for innuendoes and naughty thoughts ; P.**

Ventress hated this "outfit" even more than her previous one. It was a bikini with ultra skimpy _everywhere_. And a thong. Happy days. Then when she saw who she was modelling with, her day went from bad to "bang your head against the wall while pulling out your own hair" worse.

Kenobi stood there, looking completely at ease while chatting to one of the photographers, wearing nothing but a pair of tight swimming trunks. A pair of _very_ tight swimming trunks. As they covered so little of him, and as what they did cover was mostly visible through the tight Lycra, they were hardly decent clothing. It wasn't like Asajj was complaining though.

/Focus, Ventress,/ she mentally scolded herself.

She needed to concentrate on the mission and coming back without being a Barbie doll, not how nice Obi-Wan's ass and _other_ places looked in the fitted material...

Asajj was trying to keep all distracting thoughts of Obi-Wan, Lycra and handcuffs out of her mind, but was failing miserably. She finally just decided to blame it on her female hormones.

/Yup, not my fault at all,/ she thought happily.

When Kenobi looked up and noticed her, his expression didn't seem to waver. The only show of emotion was a slight change in his eyes. They clouded over into grey, a blank wall that hid the twinkles and swirls that danced in Obi-Wan's pupils. Ventress had to admit, she missed them already. Her heart felt a pang as she remembered she was the reason for the hard stone barrier across the Jedi's soulful expressive eyes.

At that point the photographer shouted for quiet.

"Okay, Gracie and Ben. We need you over there."

He pointed at a hot tub artfully surrounded by rocks and foliage to look like a natural plunge pool.

"The theme of this is love in the wilderness. Until this 'shoot ends, you two are in love. We need to see this in the photos!"

Great. Just great. Ventress had to exert all her control in an effort not to Force-choke every bloody stylist and photographer present. The two enemies reached the tub at the same time but Obi-Wan courteously offered his hand to help Ventress. Stepping in, she ignored him. The photographer's words had warned her, but she still got a shock when Obi-Wan pulled her tight against his hard, muscular body. With his mouth mere inches from hers, he turned them so that when he gave her a smouldering look he was also looking at the camera.

"Lets get this over with shall we?"

Obi-Wan's voice again sent shivers down her spine as his fragrant breath caressed her lips. Unable to form coherent thoughts, she simply growled.

"Don't worry; making out with my mortal enemy in front of a camera and about fifty people wasn't on my "to-do list" for today, either."

"Yes, well on my list that _doesn't _include this, I have rather a lot to do..."

"Hmm, let me guess," said Obi-Wan with mock seriousness. "Kill a Senator?"

"Actually, that's number two on my list." Ventress decided to play along. "Number one is killing you."

"I'm flattered," Obi-Wan replied, as the photographer called out,

"Okay, that's a wrap."

Obi-Wan took one of Asajj's hands and gently kissed it.

"Until next time, darling." He walked off without another word and left Ventress standing there. As he swaggered away, Asajj got a very nice view of a gorgeous and _dripping wet_ Obi-Wan.

/It's just an act, it's just an act./ She repeated this over and over in her mind, trying to forget how I felt to be pressed against Obi-Wan, so close to kissing his full, luscious lips. She'd always found Kenobi attractive, but this was getting out of hand!

/Force, woman! Get a grip on yourself. He is your enemy, there's no way you're in love with him!/

She did not just think that!

/Oh no, oh no, there is no way./ But however many times she told herself that, she couldn't forget the smouldering look in Obi-Wan's eyes, burning their way into her soul, leaving an imprint on her heart.

**A/N: Hehe Cliffie! Yep this is as much as I've got so far, so...no updates for a while unless the muse hits me over the head with a sledge hammer...**


	6. What's wrong with me?

**A/N: Really sorry this is so short but this is as much as I've got and I thought that you deserved at least a little bit! : D**

Obi-Wan paced across his room, his emotions a swirling storm. Grimacing, he downed the rest of the whisky he held in his hand and felt a flash of heat sear his throat and settle in his stomach, warm and comforting. His mind grew pleasantly fuzzy and for a moment the troubles that lay on his shoulders lightened. It didn't last. The light grey mist in his mind was swept aside by a flash of pure light; the Force sung within him as it purged him of all traces of alcohol. Damn! This was his fourth glass of the strong Correllian spirit, but the Force just kept on removing all traces of alcohol from his bloodstream. He just had to face fact-he was not going to get drunk.

Everything he was feeling was just too much on top of his current duties and worries. As High General, one of only three Jedi to be granted that rank, he had so many decisions to make, so many people to command, so many men he had sent to their deaths. Anakin had been recently knighted, but that didn't stop Obi-Wan worrying about him, especially when he threw himself into danger, so reckless, so unconcerned for his own safety. And the clones...so young, sent to the slaughter like animals. But they weren't, they were living, breathing, _thinking_ sentient beings who had as much right to exist as any other living thing did. Yet he still had the authority to send them to his death. Every man that had died because of his command, died to protect him-he had as good as slit their throats himself.

Frustration and anger welled up inside of him and erupted as a shout as he threw the glass at the wall. Staring at the broken shards he methodically cleared them up as he breathed in and out deeply, expelling his tension until he had gathered some semblance of calm. Kneeling down, he started to meditate. He wasn't going to get any sleep tonight; the Jedi Master losing his temper was something very rare, but when it happened it was like a tornado, brief, but left undeniable effects behind.

Even the calming presence of the Force could not fully expel his thoughts; they still stubbornly clung to his mind, invading everything until his very pulse beat with them.

/Asajj, Asajj, Asajj, Asajj, ASAJJ!/

Damn that woman! Damn her for making feel like this! Why couldn't he just deal with it? He had before.

That wasn't true though. He cared deeply for Satine and Siri, but they didn't make him feel this...this burning need. The need to protect Asajj, to comfort her, to hold her. To _love_ her.

**A/N: Again, sorry for how brief this chapter was, but it was easier to upload it at the end of Obi's POV.**


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